


Bubbles

by MayaTheGreatish



Series: Stiles Takes Care of His Pack [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Couch Cuddles, Cuddling & Snuggling, Gen, Movie Night, Platonic Cuddling, Stiles Takes Care of Lydia, caretaker!Stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-09
Updated: 2014-10-09
Packaged: 2018-02-20 11:43:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2427437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MayaTheGreatish/pseuds/MayaTheGreatish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles has an unexpected visitor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bubbles

**Author's Note:**

> Taking a commentator's advice and making a series of Caretaker!Stiles

Stiles opened the front door to see something he’d never seen before: Lydia without a stitch of makeup on. He raised an eyebrow, and she just frowned at him. “Yes, my queen?”   
“Are you busy?” Before he could answer, she went on, “Good,” and waved him aside, storming in like she had every right to (of course, Stiles supposed, she probably figured she did).   
He closed the door without argument and turned to face her. She was tapping her foot at him, her hands balled into fists. “What can I do for you?” he asked, since that was the only question she might answer.  
“I’m bored, so we’re watching a movie.” She reached into her purse, and for a moment Stiles feared The Notebook, but in her hand was a copy of Thor. Stiles must have looked almost as surprised as he felt, because she frowned and said defensively, “Chris Hemsworth is extremely hot.”  
This was true, Stiles knew, but he had the strangest, sneaking suspicion that this was Lydia actually taking his tastes into account. It was totally absurd, so he chose not to comment (so as to keep his eyes in his head and not skewered on Lydia’s perfect manicure), instead gesturing to the living room. Lydia led the way, flouncing to the tv and putting in the DVD, and Stiles settled onto the couch, leaning against the armrest to give Lydia as much space as he could as he draped his arm across the backrest.   
Remote in hand, Lydia nonchalantly sat right next to him, practically in his lap, like it was something they did. Lydia always maintained her goddess-bubble (wherein she was totally out of mortal reach) unless it was Jackson, and two months ago, Stiles was reasonably, depressingly confident that she didn’t know he was alive. Yet, here she was, nestled against him like that was just how they rolled. “I’m not sure you’re aware of this, goddess of my heart,” he began unevenly, “but you’re kind of in my bubble.”  
“Shut up, they’re doing exposition.”  
“But I--”  
“No buts.” Lydia focused intently on the screen, arms folded over her chest as she snuggled almost aggressively into his side. “Just watch the hot people.”  
Over the past few months, Stiles had gotten to know Lydia more intimately than he’d ever dreamed and in ways he’d never imagined. With that under his belt, he came to the realize now that this was Lydia’s way of asking for--no, demanding--closeness. Her pride would never let her say something like “I just need someone,” or “I don’t want to be alone and I feel like you get that.” She could and would only burst in with an excuse to spend time.  
And why Stiles? Well...  
Stiles nodded to himself and dropped his arm over her shoulders, squeezing just until he felt her relax ever-so-slightly. “They are pretty hot.”


End file.
